


There's Only So Much We Can Do

by NoisyNoiverns, xMidnightSun



Series: Jai Shepard [4]
Category: Mass Effect
Genre: Gen, Nonbinary Character, Tags May Change
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-26
Updated: 2015-12-16
Packaged: 2018-05-03 12:21:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,806
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5290604
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NoisyNoiverns/pseuds/NoisyNoiverns, https://archiveofourown.org/users/xMidnightSun/pseuds/xMidnightSun
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the middle of a war, it's easy to forget the ones on top are people, too.</p><p>A collection of one-shots looking at how authority figures in Mass Effect are affected by the war.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Sparatus

Jai grumbled to themselves, running over the veritable laundry list of complaints the Primarch had told them of. Troops, medicine, food, shelter… So many issues, so little time.

At least for Victus.

Jai stalked into the turian embassy and up to the first diplomat they saw. “’scuse me, is the councilor in?”

The turian, whose desk nameplate identified him as Ambassador Tollak Madelivio of Palaven, raised a brow plate before going back to looking at his terminal. “Depends who’s asking,” he drawled, mandibles flicking dismissively.

“Lieutenant-Commander Jai Louise Shepard, Special Tactics and Reconnaissance.”

“I know who you are, Commander. Are you asking for yourself, or are you running an errand for somebody?” His nasal plates flared, the tops vanishing into his face as he did what Jai had learned was the turian equivalent of wrinkling his nose. “Councilor Udina, Admiral Hackett, and other such high-ranking Alliance personnel can deliver their messages _themselves_.”

Jai groaned. “Partly me, partly Primarch Victus.”

Ambassador Madelivio’s mandibles clacked against his jaw. “Well, in that case…” He craned his neck, then bellowed something in the closed dialect. Jai looked around, and spotted a big, grey ambassador with green markings stand up and check the door at the very opposite end of the room, then called back in the same language.

Jai looked back to Madelivio, who shrugged. “He’s around, but I wouldn’t just pop in if I were you.”

“This is _important_.”

“So’s my niece’s birthday next week, but you don’t see me stomping everywhere.” He shook his head and fluttered his mandibles, turning away from them. “Suit yourself, human.”

“Thank you.” They pushed away from his desk, tromped up to the door labeled “TURIAN COUNCILOR: Ierian Sparatus,” and hit the holo-lock. Normally, they’d knock, but they weren’t exactly in the mood.

They were already seven steps into the office when their brain caught up to the scene around them.

The councilor was sitting quietly at his desk, one hand wrapped around a mug of something steaming and bittersweet-smelling while the other rested to the side of his terminal. His desk was neatly cluttered with picture frames and knickknacks, with a few pieces of paper lovingly taped to the wall behind him that looked like a child’s drawings. Sparatus himself looked… _tired_. His mandibles drooped, his eyes were half-shut, and his posture was more slumped than Jai could ever remember seeing, used to his typical straight-backed, square-shouldered stance.

Jai couldn’t see the terminal screen, but they could hear a vaguely familiar voice drifting out of the speakers. “What’s that, Callie? What did you find? Is that Daddy’s bag?”

There was a quiet giggle, and as Jai drifted closer, the voice continued, “No? Are you sure?” Another giggle, then, “I think it is. I think that’s Daddy’s bag.”

Jai rounded the corner of the desk and paused a few feet behind the councilor’s chair, all thoughts of the Primarch’s complaints flying out of their head. On-screen, a crestless baby turian was sitting on a couch, clutching at a black messenger bag and giggling madly while the speaker continued to ask questions. Behind her, a yellow shape moved into view behind the couch, and two brown, taloned hands rested on the top of the backrest. The speaker let out that little exaggerated gasp that people always used when talking to babies, then said, “Callie, look who it is!”

The baby glanced around, confused, then looked up, and squealed with obvious delight before reaching up and babbling in baby-talk. The hands on the back of the couch promptly reached down and grabbed her around the middle, and the camera followed her up as she was hoisted up to sit on the shoulders of a startlingly familiar adult turian.

In the vid, the councilor looked ages younger. There was none of the pigment loss in the front of his face that had only seemed to get worse in the three years they’d known him, and his movements were more quick and excited, rather than slow and deliberate. Next to Jai, he let out a low thrum, then a sigh. “Callie always liked to play. Hated surprises and being scared. Poor thing had a terrible time during mandatory. Asked for a noncombat position after she finished training, and took twice as long as most to finish basic because she spent half the time home on stress-related medical leave. Scared her mother and me half to death.”

Jai shifted their weight to one foot. “How old?”

“In this? Only a few months. Now she’s thirty-four, teaches grade school here on the Citadel.” His mandibles fluttered slightly. “She met her wife in mandatory. They have three children now, two daughters and an infant son.”

“Already?”

“They got married a few years before leaving the military. The noncombat position gave them stability, so they decided to start a family a little earlier than usual. Teia and I were worried they were rushing things, but they made it work. Novi and Tiri are two of the sweetest little girls you’ll ever meet, and the new baby is just like Callie was at his age.”

The screen went dark for a couple seconds, then started playing the next file. Now baby Callie was joined by two bigger turian children, both with the short spikes behind their brow plates that would eventually grow into their crests. “Areus and Verres,” the councilor said quietly. “Verres is the gray one. He’d be… three, I think, in this. Almost four. Three years older than Cal. Areus is six years older than Verres.”

This time, the voice behind the camera was a lot more familiar, and Jai smiled to themselves as the younger Sparatus reminded the children to keep it down so they didn’t wake Mommy. “It was Teia’s birthday, and the children wanted to do something special,” Sparatus narrated as the camera followed the children down a hall and into a bedroom with a blanket-covered lump on the bed, Callie clinging to Areus’ hand to help her walk. “It was her first birthday since Cal was born, and she wanted to sleep more than she wanted to go out, but she couldn’t bring herself to tell them that. It would have upset them too much for her to bear.” He smiled to himself. “She’s been soft-hearted since before we met. One of the things I fell in love with.”

Jai tried not to get choked up over that. They’d met Lady Sparatus a few times before, with the most memorable instance being an interview in which she’d kept the identity of her husband a secret until the very end in the name of both getting honest answers out of Jai and seeing the look of panic on their face when they realized who they’d been talking to, but both of the turians tended to keep such personal details about their relationship to themselves. “Uh, sir? With all due respect, why are you watching these?”

Sparatus heaved a sigh and waited for the file to reach the end, with a shot of the camera getting turned around so it could catch the two adults sharing a kiss and the younger Sparatus wishing his wife a happy birthday, then closed the window. “I keep family vids on my work terminal to watch when things get stressful. It’s… soothing.”

He switched away from the file directory, then rolled his shoulders, moving smoothly back to the professional stance and attitude Jai was more familiar with. “Now, was there something you needed?”

Jai blinked, automatically moving back to the other side of the desk. “Uh…” They thought for a moment, then shook their head. “No, sir. I can manage.”

“Then if you don’t mind, get out of my office. I have a cardiologist appointment in a couple hours, and there’s a few things I’d really rather get done before I go.”

Jai nodded and turned to head out, pausing when they reached the door. “Sir, it’s nothing urgent, but you may want to get in touch with Primarch Victus when you’re able.”

Sparatus snorted quietly to himself. “I told you, I’m going to be busy for a while. I won’t get to him until the day after tomorrow at the earliest.”

“I understand, sir. I’ll try to smooth things over until you can get to him.”

“Thank you, Shepard. Now get lost.”


	2. Valern

Jai trotted through the salarian embassy, trying not to run into any of the seven-foot giants drifting around. Councilor Valern had sent a message saying he had more information about Udina’s attempted coup for them, and would they mind dropping by at any point in the near future?

The message had actually been forwarded by Ambassador Aehe, who had added a note that she strongly recommended against not doing as he requested, as he was very busy and had more than a few dalatrasses snapping at his heels to keep the investigation moving.

They knocked on the door three times, and were about to go for a fourth when the councilor’s voice drifted out. “Yes, yes, what do you want?”

They shook their head slightly, taken aback, then said, “Sir, it’s Commander Shepard? You asked me to drop by when I had time.”

They heard him mutter something that sounded suspiciously like “I don’t remember that,” then he called, “Fine, fine, come in. I could use the extra hands.”

The door opened, and Jai started to move in just as an intern behind them shrieked, “Pick up your knees, the door is boobied!”

They paused, trying to decipher what that actually meant, settled on “probably a trap,” then hiked their knees up and carefully stepped in.

The room was, without a doubt, the worst disaster area they had ever seen, including their own quarters on the _Normandy_. Papers were piled everywhere, file folders were tossed haphazardly about the room, the chair behind the desk was occupied by a backpack that looked to be more pocket than not and stuffed full, one couch was almost entirely covered in datapads… Jai wasn’t even sure there was enough space on the floor for them to walk safely.

Valern was standing calmly in the middle of the chaos, elbow-deep in a black box with more than a few wires sticking out of it. “Don’t just stand there,” he said without looking up. “Make yourself useful and come hold this for me.”

Jai blinked, then warily made their way over. “Your message said you had more information on Udina’s coup, sir?”

“Yes, yes, hold this plate down, would you?”

Jai did as he said, putting their fingers down where he indicated while he removed his own hands and picked his way through the mess over to a couch that had his usual robes draped over it. He lifted the fabric and rummaged around, then pulled out a couple datapads and a flask before putting it down and wandering back over. “I’ve been having agents go through his terminal records. He’s not terribly good at hiding his tracks. Lots of rookie mistakes. And by ‘rookie,’ I mean ‘salarian toddler.’”

Jai nodded, a little more focused on the box than on what he was saying. “What did they find?”

“Surprisingly enough, blackmail. It would appear one of Udina’s relatives is in the hospital, and Cerberus’s messages to him imply one of the doctors in charge of the case is one of their people.” He shook his head slightly. “I forwarded the information to a dalatrass with her own agents in the area. They’re taking care of it.”

Jai was now tracing the path of various wires with their eyes. “So Cerberus was blackmailing Udina with his… what, kid? Mom?”

“Nephew, we think. And yes, the messages between Udina and his Cerberus contact show he was blackmailed with his safety if he didn’t comply with their plans.” He clicked his tongue, then put the datapads down near Jai. “Pity he didn’t come forward with the information. I may have hated _him_ , but I bear no ill will towards his family. The nephew in question wouldn’t have been in danger for long had he bothered to tell anyone.”

He paused to take a drink from his flask, and Jai followed his hand up, eyebrows raising as they noticed it was covered in scar tissue, several shades lighter than the rest of him, webbing its way across his hand and disappearing into his sleeve. “Sir, what happened to your hand?”

He froze for a fraction of a second, then shrugged and finished his drink before responding. “STG. I was in for four years, before I got into politics on peer encouragement. Served under General Vaehirn Maekso. Nice man, always had a plan, always tried to make sure everyone was doing what they did best so there was no waste of talent. He’s dead now, passed to the next life back in ’74.”

Jai thought about this, then looked down at the box they were still elbow-deep in momentarily before glancing back at him. “So’s the STG where you learned to make bombs?”

He stiffened, then gave them an easy grin. “I was wondering if you’d catch on. Very good, Shepard, there may be hope for you yet. Yes, I was a demolitions tech. My specialty was setting off chain reactions, but I always liked working on the bigger charges. The higher stakes made it interesting.” He showed them the palm of his hand, which was smooth and completely clear of the burn scars from the other side of his hand. “Technically, we were supposed to use gloves. But, well, gloves muffle tactile receptors in the skin, and the more we could feel, the better we worked, so we’d work bare-skinned and get skin grafts to replace any damaged tissue on the pads. You get used to it after the first few times.”

Jai paused to think about this new information, then shook their head. “But, sir, you’re not in the STG anymore, are you? What’s this bomb for?”

He tossed his flask back over to his robes, then walked over to another couch and started pulling up a cushion. “Oh, you know,” he said, as he started pulling out small containers of what Jai was pretty sure were ingredients. “Fun. Practice. Self-defense.” He snickered quietly to himself. “Esheel.”

They blinked. “Esheel as in _Chief Ambassador_ Esheel?”

“No, as in my aunt who died fifteen years ago. I’m going to powder her corpse. Of _course_ Ambassador Esheel!” He came back to the desk carrying an armful of bomb ingredients, then walked around it until he reached a drawer and opened it, now pulling out measuring tools.

Jai stared, gaping, as he started carefully pouring out a clear liquid into a measuring cup. Either oblivious to or just not caring about their shock, Valern merely glanced over into the box, then nodded to himself. “Right, that adhesive should have set. You can go now. Take the datapads, I don’t need them anymore. Show Hackett and Anderson, if you want. I don’t care. I’ve already sent copies to the dalatrasses who requested it, so it’s no matter to me.”

Jai pulled their hands out of the box and moved out of the way as Valern continued working on his bomb, posture very clearly saying they were dismissed and he was done talking to them. They hesitated, then gathered up the datapads and picked their way out of the office.

They stopped outside his door for a moment, thinking, then drifted over to an office with the door open and a placard reading “SALARIAN CHIEF AMBASSADOR: AERALAN ESHEEL” and knocked on the wall next to the door frame. “Ma’am? Do you have a moment?”

The salarian inside didn’t look up from her terminal. “No. Make it fast.”

Jai frowned slightly, then shook their head. Salarians. “I just thought you should know, Councilor Valern is building a bomb, and he said he might use it against you.”

Esheel took a moment to process this, then twitched one of her eye membranes. “Was he? That’s good.”

“Uh… Ma’am?”

Esheel finally looked at them, the look in her eyes suggesting she strongly regretted having to take time out of her day to explain anything. “Let me put it this way, Shepard: If he’s building a bomb, then he expects he’s going to use it. And if he plans to use it on me, that means he thinks there’s a chance he won’t have to use it against Reapers or Cerberus or what have you.”

Jai frowned slightly, thinking about this, and Esheel sighed. “I mean he thinks we’re going to win. And if _he_ thinks we’ll win… Well, our odds of living to the end of this war just jumped about twenty-three percent.”

Jai was still considering what she’d said as she turned back to her terminal, waving a hand dismissively. “Run along, now. I’m busy.”


End file.
